Elliott is dressed in a simple, greyish shirt with a couple buttons at his neck that are undone, and dark jeans. The sleeves of the shirt are pulled up to his elbows, and his thumbs are tucked into the pockets of his pants, letting his fingers dangle as he strolls down the boardwalk. He squints a little, struggling to see through the fog as his icy coloured eyes wander, trying to pick out the shapes in this fog. It's hard to tell what's inanimate and another person, if it's moving or not, and Elliott grimaces as he tries to figure where exactly he is, and which building is what.

"Geez... when did the flippin' tropics get /fog/?" Trixie asks the air, looking around as she steps out of a bar along the boardwalk. Experimentally, she holds her hand out at arms' length, palm outward, frowning, then nods. "Great... it's /that/ kind of fog. This is gonna make getting back to my hotel real interesting..."

She scowls. "Shut up, Trixie. When did you start talking to yourself?" she asks, only to reply with, "Since I started /answerin'/ myself! Prolly to do with killing so many of my dead-an'-walkin'-around neighbors."

Elliott would welcome stepping out of the fog, if he could only find which building it was he wanted. As he walks, struggling to see more than a few feet in front of him, his eyebrows lift at the voice. A familiar voice, but it's the fact she says her own name that Elliott recognises the girl, and his teeth flash as he grins. "Oh, a friendly face!" El exclaims in his British accent as he steps closer. "You can talk to me instead of yourself if that'd help," he offers, friendly but also a bit teasing. "I'd be more than happy for the company," he adds.

"Oh, hey! That you, U.N. Shrink Guy?" Trixie calls, smiling. "If you are, I'll take you up on that. Mostly 'cause I'm such an awful bore. Or if you're not, I still will. Same reason. Didn't expect to see /you/ around here. On vacation?"

"Elliott," El returns as confirmation of who he is and a reminder of his name. "U.N. Shrink Guy," he echoes in an amused tone, letting out a chuckle. When he steps up close enough so that he can make out her form, he offers out an arm so that they can walk together in this foggy evening. "Aha, well, you're in luck, because I can be /very/ entertaining." He lets out a 'mmm' as he shakes his head slowly. "I thought I'd scope out the islands," he explains.

"Well, that's good. But I'd settle for fog lamps and a compass in /this/ stuff," Trixie replies wryly, taking his arm and taking a few experimental steps in the direction of the hotel complex. "What a mess... I haven't seen a fog like this since Paris. And that sounds like you're on vacation, definitely. What do you think so far? 'Cause I think it's miles better than Bolivar, which totally wouldn't be hard. Even before the big outbreak. Was that as bad as it looked on the news?"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Elliott says with more confidence than he might actually have. "I'll help guide you out of the fog. If you tell me where it is you were headed," he finishes with a bit of a laugh. "I could do without the fog, but other than that, yea, I'd say it's grand, especially when you have company." He lets out a hmm, shrugging his shoulders lightly. "I don't know, seems a little boring to be honest..." He trails off as he turns his head to glance at Trixie briefly, shaking his head with a bewildered look. "I wasn't close when it happened." He frowns, looking down to the ground at his feet. "And I couldn't get near after."

"The hotel complex," Trixie replies, nodding. "Hope you had the land navigation course and have been here for a week or so, 'cause that may be all we have to go on. I know /generally/ which direction the hotel's in, but it would be easy to wander off course if we don't stick to the boardwalk." As he continues, she gives him a longer look, then bows her head, looking away. "I doubt it would matter if you could've. I had a feeling that would end in a giant mess, and it looks like it happened about like I thought it would."

Elliott lets out a small sound of thought as he tilts his head, looking up and trying to notice which building they're passing. "I thought the hotel was just a few more buildings along the way..." he says, trailing off as he concentrates on the location now. He bobs his head. "Look," he says, lifting his arm just a little, but keeping it hooked so he doesn't cause her hand to slip out, just so that he can point upwards. "This place has really good fish and chips - and the hotel should be..." Trailing off again, he simply walks on carefully. He frowns about the mess and shakes his head. "I do wish there was something I could have done."

"I thought so, too... but since I can't really see which is which in this pea soup..." Trixie muses in agreement. Then she smiles playfully at his suggestion. "Fish and chips... are you asking me to dinner?" she asks, her tone gently playful.

It dies off quickly as he speaks again, more gloomily. "For what it's worth, from someone who learned things that some really nasty people tried to hide? I doubt there was anything you could've done. We were likely lost before we ever got over there. There were a lot more FBC people, Wesker's people, in South America than Stadler's group, and they were working /against/ him... against /us/. While we were saving villages from groaner outbreaks, they were /creating/ the outbreaks. And we could never tell where they were, or whose side they were on. The uniforms meant /nothing/ anymore... that guy next to you might be helping load a helo, or he might just be looking for a chance to push you /out/ of the helo. You couldn't tell which. There was no /way/ we could've pulled that out."

Elliott glances back at the building, and then flashes a grin as he looks to his side to Trixie. "I /could/ do with some fish and chips." He slows, angling his head and turning to glance back at the light coming from the windowed door. "Figure out the way to the hotel on a full stomach." He falls quiet as she begins to talk about what's been happening, and he frowns as he listens to her, slowly nodding his head to show she has his attention. "Sounds terrible and not very fun," he replies honestly, grimacing as he shakes his head. "You're happier out here, I take it? Minus the fog," he adds as he gestures around the area.

"Oh, good idea... guess that's a yes, then?" Trixie asks, smiling a small, impish smile that swiftly fades. "Well... happy as I can be when I still see groaners in my nightmares some nights. I know what I've lived through was real. But the way everyone with a microphone is so hot to dismiss all us survivors as freaks and nutjobs, and to paint the outbreaks as mass hysteria and other fake things, there are times I think I really am crazy. Or going crazy, trying to prove I'm /not/ crazy."

"I reckon so," Elliott replies, jabbing his head in the direction of the door as he begins in that direction. He gives her an understanding nod, his lips twisting into a lopsided smile, showing a little sympathy. "Unfortunately when we're worried about something, our unconscious gives us terrible dreams about it." He takes a wider step to move ahead of her, so that he can pull open the door first and move to the side and let her pass. "The news can be rubbish, can't it? The majority of people are always going to find ways to explain away what's happened. Fear making them believe that it's all a lie - or people going crazy."

"Oh... thank you," Trixie says softly, blushing slightly, as Elliott holds the door for her. "And for what it's worth? I don't think it's just rationalization on their part. Umbrella has paid news sources to trash us and hide the truth before. Maybe they're finally gone, but they weren't the only players in the war on bioterrorism. And I don't believe for a second that the war's over. Not after the Bolivar outbreak."

Elliott nods slowly, listening to Trixie and frowning. "The temptation for money can be too high to resist some times," he says, and glances away to look around the restaurant instead. He's silent in his moment of reminiscing, his brows wrinkling as he frowns, before El gives his head a shake and the corners of his mouth flick out a light smile as he glances to Trixie again. "In any case," he continues, "you did your part. At least try and relax here, now, while you can." He gestures toward a table, but then glances to the counter. "Eat here out of the fog, or grab it to go?"

"Eating here sounds better. Maybe it will lift or something while we eat? We can sit anywhere," Trixie muses, letting Elliott pick the seating. "I'm trying, I really am. Just isn't working so well. Maybe I've just forgotten how to relax."

Elliott nods his agreement, flashing a smile. "I agree. Give it some time to lift." He snatches up two menus as he strides towards a nearby table, holding out one - between finger and thumb - towards Trixie. "Mm, maybe I can help with that," he offers, his lips twitching into a smile before he looks towards the waitress coming to meet them, in which El orders a coke.

"Well, maybe... what do you have in mind? Shrinking didn't work so well for me back in Bolivar. No offense," Trixie asks softly, following Elliott and accepting the menu with a faint smile for the smooth way it was passed to her. "Can I have just a moment, Ma'am?" she asks the waitress, taking a seat and opening her menu.

After offering nodding and stating that she will return in a few, the waitress walks away from the table. Elliott shrugs simply as he glances at Trixie, falling into a seat casually. "Well first off, let's get your mind off of all that responsibility and duty." He lifts both brows briefly as he locks those ice blue eyes on her. "So what would you choose to do for fun?"

"Dunno... it took a lot of my money just to get here. If I'd known how much, I would've never come. But it's a little late now," Trixie replies, with a wry smile. "Do you know of anything that's cheap and fun?"

Elliott's gaze shifts a tad so he's looking past Trixie, wetting his upper lip as he thinks. "Mm," he lets out, rolling his shoulders as his eyes drift back to her. "I'd think going for swim would be the cheapest, around here. With music and drinks," he adds, a lopsided smile sliding across his face. He falls into thinking more, until the waitress returns to set his drink down on the table in front of him and he lifts his head to offer his thanks. She turns to Trixie, asking if she's ready to order.

Trixie points to the few items she wants on the menu, with a few minimal but polite words of explanation to get it all across, waiting until the waitress has left before continuing. "I'm getting to the point where I watch what I say around /everyone/. Too used to not being able to trust anyone, I suppose," she murmurs gloomily. "But I suppose swimming and sunbathing are all I can do without a fatter bank account. Maybe I can afford the music and drinks if I pick and choose."

After Trixie finishes ordering, Elliott gives his order and then goes on to ask, conversationally, of any favourite places to hangout. He bobs his head as he listens to the waitress, teeth flashing as he smiles at her, and then as she walks away from the table, his eyes track her as his lips twist with a pleasant smile. When El returns his gaze back to Trixie, he smiles at her warmly. "The locals will know the best places to have some fun," he explains.

Angling his head and studying Trixie thoughtfully, El gives his shoulders an easy shrug. "Well you wouldn't go telling someone you just met things about you anyway, right?" He picks up the glass on the table and takes a sip of the coke while he keeps his eyes focused on Trixie. When he sets it down, a hand still over the top, he says, "Don't worry about money. Just tag along with me. I'll look out for you," he offers.

Trixie smiles wryly and rolls her eyes as she watches Elliott watch the waitress. "No, admittedly. I'm just not very good at hiding my feelings, and it makes the whole thing pretty awkward. Also makes settling into new squads uphill all the way," she replies, shaking her head. The offer draws a faint, sad smile. "I shouldn't... I'd be imposing, and I really prefer not to do that. Besides, you barely know me."

"Yea," Elliott agrees with a nod of his head. His lips twitch with a smile and he shrugs. "But it doesn't take much of meeting to invite someone to hang about with them. That's how you get to know a person." He tilts his head as he lifts his glass again, taking a drink, and gives another little shrug as his eyebrows expressively flicker, studying Trixie. "Could always use another player for badminton or volleyball," he suggests.

Trixie shrugs the barest minimum of shrugs, her wry smile returning. "That I can do. Been a long time since I played either one. Could stand to get some good practice in," she replies, which is probably the closest thing she'll give him to unconditional agreement. "Just tell me where and when to meet you. I could stand to get to know you and your friends too, most likely."

Elliott grins, and winks at her. "That's brilliant. That's what I like to hear." He smiles brightly, teeth visible, and then his attention shifts to the food arriving at the table. He bobs his head gratefully. "Looks and smells fantastic, thanks," he says approvingly to the waitress, looking up to her and flashing one of his charming smiles. He selects a fry from his plate to munch, looking to Trixie again. "I'll send a message on mobile."